


Losing You

by Un1ty



Category: John Bubniak as Spider-Man, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Character Death, Dead May Parker (Spider-Man), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt May Parker (Spider-Man), Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, May Parker (Spider-Man) Dies, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Trying To Save Aunt May But Failing, Peter Parker is a Mess, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Something I Wrote Some Time Ago, Tears, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Saves Peter Parker (kinda), Worried May Parker (Spider-Man), enjoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-08-20 19:15:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20232976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Un1ty/pseuds/Un1ty
Summary: Aunt May is dead.She died right in front of him.Peter saw it, but he refuses to believe it. Thankfully, when he thought he had no one left, Tony Stark comes in and helps him cope. However, just when he believes things are getting better... they don’t.PS. This is not related to Infinity War, Endgame, or Far From Home in any way.





	1. Aunt May’s Death

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I’m absolutely blown away by the feedback I’ve received since yesterday when I first posted this. So, it’s been decided! I’m making this into a story with multiple chapters. I’m hoping to keep this going for quite some time, as there’s a lot of ideas I want to explore.

_Beep_. _Beep_. _Beep_. _Beep_.

Peter Parker, Spider-Man, felt numb as he watched the heart rate monitor create spikes that resembled life. His dear aunt May lay limp on the hospital bed, breathing shallow and barely holding onto life. Even with her burn marks and wounds covered up with bandages and a hospital gown, she looked so incredibly pale and fragile; he couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt explode in his chest and had to look away.

It was after all his fault that she was like this.

He had been way too eager to head out for a patrol that evening. Had he not gone and instead just done his homework and helped aunt May with the groceries like he was supposed to, he could have made sure that she would be okay.

But she _wasn’t_.

It wasn’t enough that he had swung through a shattered window and got her the hell out of that burning building. Hell, even that had been a struggle: the moment he had gotten into the mayhem in the apartment, every entrance had sealed shut and he had to physically fight his way out while battling the smoke that was building up in his lungs, not to forget the flames that were literally everywhere he looked. With much needed help from Karen, he had managed to create an opening that lasted long enough for them to get out. So without wasting any more time, he had swung out of the collapsing building with a passed out May.

Peter knew that he had perhaps saved her life, but she wouldn’t even be in the hospital if he had just stayed home. He should’ve been there to protect her. This was on him, and he knew it.

Tears welled up in his eyes that were already rimmed with red from endless crying. He was still in his dusty red and blue vigilante suit because there was no way he was leaving his last family member’s side. He sniffled and exhaled a shaky breath, his blurry gaze drifting across the small, typical hospital room. In the corner were two chairs, Peter sitting in one of them. There were flowers, beautiful paintings and a television set hanging from the far left wall. In the center of the room was a hospital bed where aunt May lay fast asleep. Peter and her were alone in the room, and had been so for about an hour now. Unlike the rest of the building, it was quiet in here and thankfully it smelled more of flowers than the stagnant smell that filled the rest of the hospital. The smell of detergents and cleaning sprays were almost too much for his enhanced senses.

Suddenly the heart rate monitor speeded up and immediately Peter knew something was happening. In less than a second he was standing by her bedside. As her eyelids slowly fluttered open to reveal her watery eyes, his gaze blurred up once more, and he was glad she couldn’t see the look on his face.

“Hey,” Peter said, trying to sound like Spider-Man and not her nephew. He cleared his throat and assured her, “You’re gonna be alright, ma’am.”

After realizing he was here with her she seemed to be calming down a little, the beeps from the monitor by her side becoming slower and slower.

Aunt May looked at him for a second. Her eyes were dark and showed how much pain she was battling. She mumbled something, but even with his enhanced hearing he couldn’t make out what she was saying. She spoke again, this time a little louder and clearer.

“Take off your mask, Peter.”

Those words were some Peter never could imagine May would say. His lips parted and his eyes were almost as still as some on a billboard poster. He was sure even the mask couldn’t hide the shock that registered on his face.

_She_ _knew_?

“How…How’d you know?” He asked and pulled off the mask with one hand, revealing his face wet and red from crying. His brown hair was a total mess but it didn’t bother him.

“I’ve known for some time now,” she responded.

Peter swallowed the lump that had formed in the back of his throat. “I never wanted you to worry.”

“I did,” she said. Peter watched as her shaky hand latched over his. “Many times.”

Peter refused to meet her gaze and looked down at the floor like a guilty puppy. “May, I’m sorry. I should have told you.“

“Peter, it’s okay,” she whispered, her voice raspy and sore. She gave him a soft but broken smile. “You have saved so many people. You have saved me. I’m proud of you— Ben would be too.”

To that Peter returned the smile. The reason as to why he never told her was so she wouldn’t be put in danger, but also because she might not let him do this anymore or react badly to it. Turns out she wasn’t as negative about it as he had expected.

He gently squeezed her hand. “May, I should have been there. I could have-“ but Peter was cut off by happened next, something he never could predict would happen, not after she had just woken up. Suddenly she seized up, arched straight from the bed and locked rigid, breath vanishing, and then _too_ _long_ later coming back in a rush with short pants of oxygen. Never before had she frightened him so much.

_What_ _was_ _happening? _

He didn’t hesitate and slammed the palm of his hand into the button by her bedside and called for help, quickly putting his mask back on.

“Nurse?” he yelled. “NURSE!”

Just as the heart rate monitor went flatline, the door quickly flew open and in entered a team of four- five medical staffs.

“She’s going into cardiac arrest,” one of them spoke.

_Wait_, _she_ _was_ _what? _

He watched the nurses and doctors circle around his aunt with his head swimming unhelpfully and his mouth uncharacteristically dry. His limbs felt like his muscles had been taken out and replaced with over-stretched elastic bands. He had to lean against the wall to support himself.

_She_’_s_ _going_ _to_ _be_ _alright_, he assured himself.

_She’ll be okay. _

_In a second she’ll be awake again, as if this never happened. _

_She’s fine. _

However much he tried to convince himself, deep down he knew she might not recover from this.

And he could only stand and helplessly watch her disappear from his life.

“Let’s get the defibrillator out. Charge to 200.”

“Ready.”

A medic quickly handed one of the doctors the defibrillator and suddenly it was starting up.

“Clear.”

The doctor performing CPR on Peter’s aunt stepped back, the defibrillator humming increasingly loudly and quickly it was pressed onto the plates of aunt May’s chest. It scared Peter how her body jerked violently and he looked instead towards the heart monitor for any hope, but nothing happened.

He could feel his palms getting sweaty and eyes stir, desperately holding onto the tears. For a moment he felt like he was suffocating; his heart was trying to tear itself out of his chest and his senses became incredibly conflicted. He could hear the medics speak, but their voices became echoes in his head and he could barely make out what they were saying anymore. Was he panicking? _Definitely_.

Suddenly someone was by his side and said something about the words “breathe” and “it’s okay”.

But it wasn’t okay. The world was ending around him. _Aunt_ _May_ _was_ _dying_. Oh, fuck. Suddenly it was like the reality of the situation just dawned upon him. Aunt May was dying, she was dying and she was going to leave him all alone in this gruesome world...

“Charge to 300,” one of the doctors said, and the process was repeated but once again nothing happened.

_Come_ _on_, he prayed. This was a nightmare. Every second that passed in this room was a nightmare. He still prayed that this was just some nightmare and he would wake up any second now, but the scene kept playing before him and he was stuck here, and could only watch as the doctors desperately tried to bring life back into his poor aunt.

“Shock again at 360.”

After repeating it once again for the third time, the the three medics stopped and exchanged a look. The defibrillator was about to be put away, but Peter spoke up.

“Why are you stopping?” he demanded, trying to sound like he didn’t know this woman and was just here for support, but it was visible he was panicking and he knew immediately he had to drop the facade. He swallowed hard and moved towards them, but the room was spinning and he could barely walk straight.

“Why are you _stopping?!_” Peter repeated, this time much louder.

A female Latina doctor, one of the doctors he had seen earlier today assisting aunt May, looked at him before locking gazes with one of her coworkers. Her eyes were filled with emotion and such pity for him.

“Push 100 of lidocaine and charge to 360 again.”

Peter felt a small wave of relief wash over him. He backed off a little and let them work, watching as CPR was continuing and lidocaine was quickly inserted into her IV.

“Clear.” With that, the doctors surrounding aunt May moved back for the fourth time and the defibrillator was placed on her chest. Her body jerked violently but nothing happened. At that, everyone seemed to be stopping for good.

After a couple of seconds, a taller male doctor sighed and spoke four words that made Peter’s heart drop.

“_Time of death… 22:16._”

“What?” Peter pushed them aside so he could see aunt May properly. Suddenly she looked so _lifeless_, Her chest was so still he had to bite his lips so he wouldn’t yell. “No,” he continued, his voice hoarse. “We can’t give up!”

This wasn’t happening.

She was _not_ dying. This couldn’t be real. He didn’t want this to be real. Anything other than this was fine. Anything. He just wanted something else to happen.

His hands trembled as he laced his fingers together, sat the heel of his lower hand in the the center of her chest and pressed down, silently begging her to wake up. One, two, three four. Up and down.

“Spider-Man, she’s gone,” one of the doctors that still remained in the room said. Peter just shook his head. _No_, _she’s_ _still_ _got_ _a_ _chance_. _She_ _had_ _to_. He couldn’t help himself and prayed again, prayed that he at least remembered how to do this right. He continued to count and hit thirty, although he couldn’t even remember hitting twenty. Fuck, he could barely even think straight.

Ten minutes passed. Peter was exhausted but didn’t dare to stop, exhaling a breath at each pump.

“Son...”

Another ten minutes went by, but nothing was happening. One, two, three four. Come on, he told himself. He had to keep going. There was no way he was giving up. She could still be saved. He didn’t want her to leave him.

“Spider-Man, it’s too late. You have to stop.”

No, he was not stopping. Aunt May was all he had left. She never gave up on him, so why should he give up on her? After everything they’d been through, this was how it ended?

“No, you’re wrong!” He shook his head. “She was awake a _minute _ago!”

He felt a hand land on his shoulder. “Son, there’s _nothing_ you can do.”

That’s when Peter stopped pumping.

He stood still and the two other people in the room was quiet for a moment.

_There was nothing he could do. _

_She was dead because of him. _

_This was his fault._

“Can you, uh,” he broke the silence and swallowed hard. He let out a shaky breath and dared not to look anywhere else but at May’s completely still chest, still hoping for a miracle.

“Can you give me a minute?”

Thankfully the nurse and doctor agreed to give him the space he needed and quickly left the room and closed the door. Peter remained still for a moment and looked at aunt May’s peaceful expression on her face. She was gone. She was really gone. And he could have prevented it.

But now there was nothing he could do.

He pulled off his mask for the second time. His eyes were red from crying and he was as pale as a sheet. Not feeling like his legs could hold his weight anymore, he dropped to his knees and suddenly all the emotions that had built up inside of him escaped. He sobbed over the still corpse of his aunt May, his stomach wrenching from each cry. The long beep from the heart rate monitor was the only sound filling the room except for his sobs. From each cry he felt the hole in his chest just growing bigger and bigger.

He had lost everybody. His entire family. His mother, his father, his uncle, and now his aunt. He was the last of the Parkers, and he was only seventeen. His life had just begun. Aunt May had always been there for Peter, she had been more of a mother to him than Mary Fitzpatrick-Parker had ever been. Even when Uncle Ben was shot, there had been a certain comfort in knowing that Aunt May would always stick around, that she was just too stubborn to die, or so it seemed. Now she would never get to see the grand-nieces and nephews she’d always wished for, or see him marry the love of his life. She would never see him prove successful at a career in science. Never again would she create another batch of wheatcakes that would be shared between the two of them. Now she was gone forever.

“May, look at me. Wake up. I can’t do this without you,” he whispered. He didn’t expect a reply, but how she just stayed completely still didn’t make the situation easier— it was a constant reminder that he would never get to hear her voice again, or see her smile, or give her a goddamn hug.

_This was his reality. This was really happening. _

Spider-Man had saved countless lives across the globes for the past years. He was one of Earth’s Avengers, and now he was staring at the lifeless body of his aunt just in front of him, his aunt whom he couldn’t save.

He bit his lips, a tear rolling down his left cheek. “May, _please_.” Another sob broke its way through his throat. “No, no, _no_. May, look at me. May,” he sniffled. “Please... I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you.”

One last prayer, one last hope. He adjusted to the grip around her hand and whispered something he wish he could have said while she was still alive. “I love you.” He began to sob frantically. “I love you. I love you so much. I-I’m sorry.”

He inhaled sharply and rested his head on her lap. “_I’m so sorry.”_

_⋆ ⋆ ⋆_

Peter stayed with aunt May for the rest of the evening. It was first when the clock on the wall showed 12:01 a.m. he decided to stand up from his position by aunt May’s bedside and leave the building to get some fresh air, but he didn’t get far as the door suddenly slowly opened and he jerked his head up to see who it was. He was ready to turn around and put his mask on just in case it was someone outside of his comfort zone. But in walked Tony Stark himself, dressed in one of his most formal attires. As their gazes locked, the genius billionaire pulled off his yellow-tinted sunglasses and his eyes softened, and Peter relaxed a little.

“Pete,” he breathed, stepping further into the room and closing the door behind him.

“What are—“ Peter cut himself of as he realized how incredibly raspy his voice sounded. “Wh-“ he kept trying to form the words, but his body was protesting with sudden sobs and uneven breaths. He was breaking down again. _What_ _are_ _you_ _doing_ _here?_ Peter wanted to ask, but it wasn’t working. A tear rolled down his cheek and he began to sob uncontrollably again. He refused to meet Tony’s gaze out of embarrassment and instead looked down at the floor. He hated to be seen like this. Hell, he was an Avenger! And now he was crying in front of his childhood idol.

Peter knew that Tony was still looking at him. Judging him, perhaps. He wouldn’t be surprised, he probably looked really stupid crying like this. But he couldn’t control it and he just couldn’t seem to stop.

Peter brought a hand up to his face and sniffled. “She,” he sobbed. “May—“

“I know, kid.”

His bottom lip began to quiver when he looked up at Tony. “I’m alone.”

Tony stepped forward and wrapped an arm around the weeping teenager’s shoulders and pulled him close, gently rubbing his back with the other hand. His very touch seemed to lighten the heaviness in his Peter’s stomach and the world around him melted as he squeezed back, not wanting the hug to ever end. His shoulders hunched and he let out loud, heaving sobs that tore from his throat.

After a couple of minutes when Tony pulled back and studied Peter with his gaze while his hands rested on his arms, Peter had calmed down considerably and his breathing was returning to normal. He felt like all his emotions had been drained from him so he could only glance back at the older man with tear-streaked cheeks as he gave him a broken smile that probably was meant to reassure him he was going to be alright. But it didn’t, not the slightest. Now that aunt May was gone, what was he supposed to do? Where was he supposed to go? Peter suddenly felt like he was on the verge of panicking again. Had it not been for the weight of a hand he suddenly felt on his shoulder and the man’s soft voice, he might have stumbled backwards and crashed against the wall.

“Pete, I saw what happened on the news. You were there.” Peter nodded, and Tony continued. “Are you okay— are you hurt or something?”

Peter could feel Tony’s gaze searching him for wounds, but he had none. Except for the smoke he could still feel in his lungs and the fact that he looked like he had cleaned a chimney, he was alright. Physically, that was.

There was a moment of silence before Peter spoke, his gaze glued to the floor.

“Why didn’t you come?” His words came out equally as surprising for both of them. It seemed to Peter it was only his mind alone speaking at this point.

“I came as soon as I could. I had to leave a meeting in Beijing when I heard—“ Tony cut himself off. “Point is, I’m here now. I’m not leaving.”

Peter’s feet seemed as tied to the ground like roots, his gaze too. All he wanted to do was flee the scene. He didn’t need pity from a busy celebrity like Tony Stark. Despite having taken him under his wings for the past two years, the man clearly had so many other important things to do, like the meeting. He felt guilty enough about aunt May— he didn’t need anything more. What he needed was for aunt May to be alive.

“_Hey. Look at me, kid._”

Tony’s voice shook him out of his thoughts. Peter glared up at him with bloodshot eyes.

“I’m here. You are _not_ alone.”

Only those words were enough to send him to the edge of starting to sob again, he could feel his eyes already welling up. Peter swallowed hard.

“Where am I supposed to go, then? I can’t go back. I... I can’t.”

Tony patted his back comfortingly and gave him a small smile.

“We’ll figure it out.”


	2. Welcome Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Wait.” He looked helplessly towards Tony. “I don’t have anything to wear other than this. We can’t just waltz out of here when I’m in the suit, it will be all over the news, no doubt.” 
> 
> Tony chuckled, obviously amused. “Yeah, how’s that gonna be? Breaking News: Tony Stark and Spider-Boy fighting crime at local hospitals!’” 
> 
> Scoffing, Peter couldn’t help but send a snarky comment back. “You know it’s Spider-Man, not Spider-Boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! It’s been around a week since I posted the first chapter, and I apologize for the delay. I hope this chapter makes up for it, though. <3
> 
> PS. I know Spider-Man is no longer apart of the MCU (I know, it hurts) but this story will go on unbothered, pretending like he still is.

Peter felt sick.

Every time he looked at the still figure of aunt May on the hospital bed, his head spun. Everything ached. There was a sickening amount of seafoam in front of him that looking at left him nauseous, and suddenly Tony’s voice was nothing but a distant echo. 

Aunt May was really _ dead _. 

Just like that. 

Peter hadn’t even realized he had interrupted Tony when he quickly said, “Can I… I, I need some fresh air. Alone.” 

An expression of worry and concern came over Tony’s face, and Peter could tell he was going to protest, but he spoke again before Tony could. 

“Please. I’m not going anywhere, I promise, I just… I need five minutes.” 

Tony nodded, although it was obvious he wanted to keep an eye on Peter right now. But he needed time alone, some time to think. His mind was drifting from memory to memory, desperately trying to hold onto what left he had of aunt May. Every breath he took without her presence sent the remains of his shattered heart scraping against his insides, though he would lie if he didn’t say Tony’s comfort was easing the pain.

“I’ll be out in five.” Tony pulled his arm back from Peter’s shoulder. “Kid, I think you should stay with me at the Compound for some time. I mean, unless you got anyone else? A friend, maybe? Your guy in the chair— what’s his name again? Ted?”

Peter had to stifle a small laugh at his effort at Ned’s name. “It’s _ Ned _.” 

Ned was in Oregon to visit some family, and would be there for another week or so. If only he knew MJ’s family better he could perhaps have stayed with her, but she didn’t talk much about them whenever the subject came up, nor had he ever met them. That left him with no one else but the one and only, Tony Stark, the man who had come here all the way from Beijing just for him. Peter wasn’t going to lie; if he hadn’t come, he’s not sure if he would have had it in him to call him. There were times where he had been critically injured on patrol and Karen had called Tony despite him telling her not to— his pride only let him do so much.

“But seriously— you’d do that for me? I don’t wanna burden you.” 

Tony was his mentor and friend, but so much more than that. Peter looked up to him. There were afternoons where the two would casually work on the projects that Tony describes as ‘internship stuff’ also known as, _ you guessed it, _ Spider-Man suit- or gadget upgrades. Sometimes Tony would help him with his homework the few other times he got invited over to the Compound. But he had never thought a day would come when Tony would even offer him something like this. Tony Stark was a busy man, and Peter tried his best to think that maybe, just _ maybe, _ he wasn’t doing this out of pure pity. 

“Kid, you’re going through a rough patch right now. Of course you can count on me,” Tony assured him. His response made Peter think that perhaps there was something more to their bond after all. 

The boy’s gaze fell to the floor, perhaps to hide the blush on his cheeks, but that’s something he would never admit. Then his mind began to wander again: the burning building scene that left his chest hollow played in front of his eyes, and his jaws dropped. He collapsed back into the chair and suddenly it was incredibly hard to breathe.

Tony seemed to have sensed this, as he quickly approached Peter, worried eyes looking him up and down. 

“Hey…” he began in a soft tone and crouched down in front of him. “What’s wrong, Pete?” 

Peter refused to meet his gaze. He hated to be seen like this— he was supposed to be _ Spider-Man, _not a big, emotional whump. He would’ve thought going through so many deaths in his family, he would get used to it and it would somehow be easier to deal with the grief, but it was the complete opposite. Aunt May’s death was without doubt the most difficult one to deal with; it seemed like he would never truly recover from this.

“I just… I should have been there. I _ know _ I could have saved her—“ Peter tried, but he was quickly interrupted.

“I’m gonna stop you right there, bud,” Tony cut in and gestured with his hand. He sighed and pulled up one of the chairs so he could sit in front of Peter and talk. 

“I know you think it’s somehow your job to _ save _ everyone, that everyone‘s safety depends on you, but it’s not like that,” Tony said. “You can’t always save everyone. That’s the hard part of the whole superhero job.”

Peter lowered his head. He had heard some version of that speech before, and it didn’t help the least. His mind continued to wander, each thought starting with the same word: _ if _. What if? What if he had gotten there faster? What if he had never gone out on a patrol today— what if he had stayed at home? 

“I should have saved her…” His words tore through his throat. His eyes were already starting to fill with tears— _ God _ , how he hated crying in front of _ Iron Man _, how he hated how vulnerable and embarrassed it made him feel, but he couldn’t stop himself. His hands were clenched into shaking fists, in a desperate battle against the grief that was destroying him on the inside.

“Parker, eyes up. Look at me.” 

The boy’s head slowly tilted up, bloodshot eyes instantly locking on Tony’s friendlier brown gaze. It seemed to had taken Tony a bit by surprise, as his expression softened and he went quiet for a moment.

“You wanna blame yourself, huh? Somehow convince yourself that it’s _your_ _own _doing? Wanna go down that road? _Fine_.” His words caused a frown upon Peter’s face. 

“But believe it or not, you are _ not _ responsible for this, no matter what you tell yourself.” His tone was stern and serious, but Peter could tell it was another speech to make him feel better and release the weight on his shoulders, and strangely enough worked it a little. 

The teenager brought a hand up to his eyes to wipe away a lone tear that was tracing down his cheek and leaned his head back against the wall. 

“I just… I can’t believe it, you know? After everything… it all ends here.” Peter wiped at his nose and scoffed. Was this really the way his life was supposed to go? Was this the universe’s _ fucked up _way of playing with him?

“A bit dramatic to say it _ ends, _ wouldn’t you agree? Think of it as an obstacle, one you’ll get by.” Tony gave him a reassuring smile and rose from the chair. “Now, how ‘bout we both just head out to the car, hm? It’s a two hour ride to the Compound, and it’s way past midnight already.” 

Part of him didn’t want to leave aunt May’s side, but he nodded nevertheless, as Tony was probably right. However, as he stood up he realized he was still in his Spider-Man suit. 

“Wait.” He looked helplessly towards Tony. “I don’t have anything to wear other than this. We can’t just waltz out of here when I’m in the suit, it will be all over the news, no doubt.” 

Tony chuckled, obviously amused. “Yeah, how’s that gonna be? _ Breaking News: Tony Stark and Spider-Boy fighting crime at local hospitals!’” _

Scoffing, Peter couldn’t help but send a snarky comment back. “You know it’s Spider_-Man, _ not Spider_-Boy_.” 

“Point is, I’ll handle it. Don’t worry.” Looking down at the boy, Tony winced slightly at how tore the suit was and the fact that it was covered in soot and ugly marks. Peter, however, wasn’t very pleased with his response. He would rather not have people find out his identity, even about something so simple. He sent him a look that said it all and Tony instantly caught it. 

“Alright, _ fine _!” He groaned. “How ‘bout you go out the window then, and I’ll meet you in the parking lot? Is that better? Sounds good?” 

Peter nodded and let out a breath of relief. Thankfully they were only at the second floor, so it would only take him mere seconds to get to the car. He had rode Tony’s car multiple times already and was fairly certain he knew which one it was, not that it would be difficult to spot it, though.

For the first time that evening, Peter genuinely smiled. “Thanks.” 

Tony looked at him for a moment, as if he was trying to hold onto the moment of the teen smiling, before he headed towards the door. “I’ll be right there, I just gotta talk to some people outside first.” 

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

The car ride was mostly quiet. Peter was sitting in the front passenger seat of the black Audi and as he couldn’t sleep, he had opted to looking outside the window of the driving vehicle. The gentle ‘pitter patter’ of rain was now pouring down in great sheets, hammering against the window and creating puddles in which the streetlights reflected through. The coldness of the November night rainfall seeped through the car, and had it not been for Tony, who had insisted to have the seat warmer turned on and even given him a _ blanket _, he would have been freezing at this point. Peter had never seen much of the concerned part of him before, but he had to say it was comforting to have someone look after him after everything he had been through. 

He shifted his position in the seat so he could look ahead. The hairs in the back of his neck suddenly rose and and an uncertain feeling was starting to form in his gut, though he wasn’t sure exactly what was wrong. A frown on his face, he looked around his surroundings, from outside of the window to Tony, to the back window of the car, where he saw nothing but another car on their tails. 

“You alright there, Pete?” Tony asked, who had noticed his unease. 

“Yeah…” Peter trailed off, figuring it was probably just his body trying to tell him to get something into his system. He settled back into his seat and let it go. “It’s nothing.”

Hunger was practically gnawing on his insides at this point. He hadn’t eaten in several hours, and his enhanced metabolism didn’t help the least. He was debating whether or not he should ask Tony if they could stop at the next gas station, but he didn’t want to be annoying or needy. The man had after all come all the way to Queens just to get him, so Peter didn’t want to put any more stress on him. Besides, he wasn’t sure if he _ actually _had it in him to eat. All he felt was numb. 

However, about another twenty minutes into the ride, his stomach was beginning to hurt so he reluctantly called the billionaire philanthropist’s name. 

“Hey, Mr. Stark?”

“_Tony._”

“—Tony.” Peter said after Tony had corrected him. He was quiet for a moment, apparently too long, as the man quirked a brow at him and sent him multiple glances from behind the steering wheel. Peter immediately regretted calling his name.

“I, uh,” he began hesitantly. Tony raised his brows.

Peter stopped fiddling with the blanket and looked back at him. “I’m kinda… hungry.” 

His voice was low and had come out as a low mumble, so he wasn’t surprised with his Tony’s response.

“Come again?” 

“I _ said _ I’m _ hungry _ .” Okay, that may have sounded a bit colder than he had intended to. _ Damn it, Peter. _

Tony sighed. Although his voice was calm, it was obvious he was annoyed. “Kid, _ seriously? _We literally just left. Can’t you wait?” 

Peter could tell he was trying not to sound hostile. He looked away again, though he knew Tony’s eyes were still on him. _ I guess I can wait, _he thought to himself, a little disappointed— but hey, what could he expect? It was still a long way left to the Compound and it was understandable Tony wanted to get there as soon as possible, he did too. 

Tony returned his attention to the road, both of them falling silent for a short moment. A confused look painted on Peter’s face as the man suddenly was pulling up into the gas station by their side. 

“Alright, what do you want?” 

Peter straightened himself so he could look directly at him. “Mr. Stark…” 

“Kid, what did I _ just _ tell you?” The man cocked his brows at him, waiting for an answer that certainly wasn’t _ Mr. Stark. _

“Tony,” he corrected himself. “You didn’t have to—“ 

“It’s nothing, Pete,” he quickly cut in, seeming much less irritated now. “I have to fill the tank anyways. I’ll just get you something… you stay put here, yeah?” 

Peter nodded and watched the man exit the car, letting silence absorb him completely. If this had been a few days ago, he would have had no problem with sitting in a car by himself, but there was something unsettling about the strange feeling within him and the fact that they were at a gas station with creepy neon lights in the middle of nowhere. When Tony finished filling the tank and walked into the station, Peter sighed and opened the car door, deciding that he should probably get some fresh air before they continued on. The boy stood up and wrapped the dark gray blanket around him so the upper part of the suit was completely hidden, making it look like he was only wearing some kind of red boots.

Looking around, there wasn’t much sign of life other than at the gas station. Everywhere around it were trees, except for the motorway and some houses in the far distance. After exploring his surroundings, Peter’s gaze immediately fell on another car at the station, his Spidey Sense seeming at ease for a moment. That only made Peter more eager to find out what was going on. The car was a normal black SUV, although it was one he recognized from earlier on when his senses had gone off in the first place. Suddenly, as paranoid as he could be, he began to wonder if someone could be following them. His sixth sense warned him of danger— it added up.

Peter had only been staring at the car for a split second before it suddenly roared to life, roughly scurrying to the motorway and speeding away. It almost seemed like it had been startled at the way Peter had noticed it, hurrying away before he could do anything else. Part of him wanted desperately to follow it, but his feet seemed to be tied to the ground somehow. 

“Here you go, bud.”

It was Tony’s voice. As he turned around, the man tossed him a granola bar and a bottle of cola over the roof of the car. Peter easily caught the items and seated himself back in the car, wiping the death stare off his face. 

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

  


Since Peter had already been at the compound a couple of times already, he wasn’t surprised when they were greeted by FRIDAY’s voice. What surprised him was how quiet it was here. Sure, it was almost 3am, but stepping into such a quiet facility felt like entering a whole other world. 

“Is anyone else here?” He asked. 

Tony put his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Just Natasha, Clint and Steve. I doubt you’ll see much of them, though.”

Before Peter even realized it, Tony had led Peter to a part of the Compound he had never seen before. He found himself standing in Tony Stark’s own private living area. If he had known this was going to be his future when he first had met Tony Stark, briefly two years ago, Peter would be freaking out at this moment and fangirling at the extreme. But now, actually being here here… he just felt more empty than ever.

Standing in the corridor and glancing ahead towards the living room, Peter found it way less extravagant than he had ever imagined. The ceiling was relatively low here, but as he slowly moved forward to follow Tony, he could see the ceiling suddenly became taller so the fancy LED lamps could hang down nicely. The floor was of dark wood, perfectly polished and free of dust. 

Two expensive, dark gray couches stood the opposite sides of each on the hand-woven rug in front of the electric fireplace, accompanied by rich dark red wing-chairs that stood as a sidekicks. In the middle was a low table, holding candles, books and pot of white orchids. There were paintings, a tall bookshelf and fancy plants— all which fit perfectly with the rest of the furniture. 

The windows were large enough to let in maximum light into the wide, spacey area, but fashioned so well that the home stayed warm and homely. They were decorated with thin curtains that hanged gracefully to the floor, curtains that would add an orange glow to the morning light that would flutter through in a matter of hours. 

To the left was a sleek, professionally designed and modern kitchen, filled with several family pictures on a shelf. To the right was a big room closed off by walls but opened with an arched doorway, and further away was the dining room and another hallway Peter assumed led to the rooms. 

Peter had never felt so unsure about something like this in his life before. It felt like he wasn’t meant to be here, yet he proceeded to follow Tony through his home until he led him to a room at the end of the hallway he guessed was a guest bedroom. His only hope was that his suit’s footwear wasn’t leaving much of a trail. 

The guest bedroom itself was beautiful like the rest of the home, but way simpler designed. In the middle was a king sized bed with large pillows and white and turquoise sheets, beautiful paintings on the wall, a lamp on the bedside table, and two doors to the right Peter had no idea where went. He didn’t know why Tony hadn’t just led him to the room he had originally made for him after the Homecoming scenario, but he appreciated him not doing it. It was comforting to have Tony around right now, despite that he felt guilty standing here in the doorway, guilty for being such a burden. 

“Make yourself at home,” Tony said with a small smile. 

Peter stood there for a moment before he reluctantly moved towards the bed and sat down at the front, instantly feeling like he was being swallowed by a giant marshmallow. He had never sat at something so _ soft _ before, and apparently it showed, because it made Tony chuckle.

“There’s towels in the bathroom, there,” he gestured towards the right mystery door. “If you wanna take a shower or something— which you probably should, by the way. That one,” he pointed at the other mystery door. “Is a closet. That reminds me, you probably need some clothes, right? I’ll see what I can find.” 

The couple of seconds Tony was gone to find him something to wear, Peter could only sit and stare right ahead with a blank expression on his face. He knew he needed some clothes, he had to get out of the broken suit. There was no doubt he needed a good shower. But he didn’t _ want _ to. All he wanted was to just lie down for a second, just _ one _second so he could process everything that had happened in the last 24 hours.

Although he was quiet, Peter knew Tony was looking at him from the doorway. He had the clothes in his hand, so he didn’t understand why he was still standing there, just looking at him. Did he really look that terrible? Was he judging him? Peter eventually decided to meet his gaze, only to be met by the same concerned look he had seen almost throughout the entire evening. The man approached him with the clothes; a t-shirt with a school logo he didn’t recognize, and some joggers stretched from years of wear.

Peter frowned upon looking at the t-shirt. He couldn’t put together why Tony was giving this to him; this was clearly a totem from one of his past schools, and as he still had it, he figured it must be special to him. It seemed like something you would hide away in the back of your closet and give to your own children when the day came. 

“You look like shit.” 

The four words shook Peter back to reality. So he was judging him all the time he had been standing in the doorway. Peter looked up from the clothes and chuckled at his joke. “I know.” 

Tony gave the teenage boy a pat on his shoulder and handed him a washcloth, which Peter accepted but only stared dumbfoundedly at for the next couple of seconds.

“Do you need help?” 

Peter swallowed hard.

“Yeah.” 

Was it childish? Maybe. At this point, he didn’t care that Tony saw this vulnerable side of him. It was obvious he just wanted to help, and Peter was going to let him. He wasn’t going to shut himself away from the world. He certainly did not want to to lose Tony too.

Putting the clothes in Peter’s lap aside, Tony grabbed the washcloth and moved it up to Peter’s face, gently cleaning the soot and ash on his face away while holding the boy’s head steady with his other hand. Peter remembered the times when May had used to clean him up when he had been targeted by some bullies back in Middle School. It felt strange to have Tony in this role, but for once he felt like he actually had someone to turn to, someone who he was comfortable sharing Spider-Man stuff with. He trusted him like he was family. 

“Tony,” Peter suddenly spoke. He had to get this weight off his chest.

Tony didn’t look back at him. “Mhm.”

“You…” the teen began, hating how his words came out as if he was five years old. “You’re not gonna leave me too, are you?” 

That’s when Tony stopped wiping at his face. He stared at him, unable to speak for a moment.

“Kid, you’re gonna be stuck with me for a long time.” 

Peter felt ten pounds lighter at his answer. He had to laugh a little, admiring how Tony could change the serious atmosphere around them into something warmer and more lovable just like that.

“Guess you’re gonna be stuck with me too, then.”

The man chuckled. “Kid, I don’t mind at all. ”

Sighing, he spoke again and retrieved the washcloth. “Alright, is late. It’s fine if you wanna just jump into the clothes and shower later,” he said. “I’ll be in the room across the hall if you need anything. Try to get some sleep, will you?”

Peter nodded, _ I’ll try. _

A hot shower sounded good about now, it was a chance to scrub himself clean; however Peter was going to wait until the morning. But having Tony around and not being alone in this, he couldn’t help but think that from here on things would improve. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please don’t be scared to leave a comment! Feedback is what inspires me to keep writing this story, as well as kudos ❤️


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